ACT Reading Practice Test 13

PROSE FICTION: The Summer Sandwich Club

Maxwell was one of those kids I know I will remember for the rest of my life. I first met Max three summers ago when he showed up at the park on the first day of camp with his mother Katherine. After a brief

Line 5 good morning, he went off to play with the rest of the five and six year olds who I would be counseling for the next several weeks. As his mother walked back to her car, I couldn’t help but notice that she looked as though she had just finished running a marathon; however, that

10 thought left my mind soon after she drove away, as I was surrounded by the smiling faces of thirty brand new campers. The summer started off great, and Max and I hit it off right away; he looked up to me as an older brother,

15 and I thought he was a great little kid. There were a few things that stuck out in my mind as odd, though, like when he would complain of being hungry an hour or so after lunch at least once or twice a week. By the third week of camp, I decided that it was something

20 I needed to investigate, and during lunch time I went over to his table and asked if I could sit next to him. He giggled and said, “Sure Jake,” feeling special that I would want to spend my lunch break with him. His lunch consisted of a bag of potato chips, a can of soda,

25 and a chocolate bar—hardly a healthy meal for a five year old. I offered him half of my sandwich and his eyes lit up like it was his birthday. That afternoon, when Katherine came to pick Max up from the park, I pulled her aside to discuss the lunch

30 issue. “Katherine, Maxwell needs to have a healthy lunch.” She looked down at the ground.

“What do you mean, Jake?”

“I mean Max can not keep eating junk food

35 every day.” “Oh. That. I’m sorry about that. It’s just that I work back-to-back jobs every night and barely make it home in time to get him out of bed and dressed before camp starts in the morning. His babysitter is supposed to

40 pack Max’s lunch for him at night when she puts him to bed. We have had a couple of new babysitters lately, and sometimes they forget to do it, so I end up having to throw something together at the last minute. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen any more.”

45 “It happens to the best of us; I just wanted to make sure you knew what he was eating. After a couple days of him being hungry I got worried and wondered who was making his lunch for him. See you tomorrow morning then.”

50 Several days later I expected to see Max eating a sandwich went I went over to him at lunchtime. His lunch once again consisted entirely of junk food. Something had to change; at the very least he needed to be eating much less sugar.

55 “Katherine,” I called to his mother as she stepped out of her car that afternoon. I really had no idea what I was supposed to say. It was quite a predicament. “We really need to fix this problem with Max’s lunch.” “Jake, I know, it’s just that the house payment was

60 due yesterday, and I haven’t had the, uh, time to get to the grocery store,” she trailed off. “Things are just a little hard for us right now.” She was obviously self-conscious at the moment, and I felt bad for having brought it up again. I told

65 her that I had a plan, and not to worry about it. After explaining what I meant, the look on her face was one of relief and thanks, and she and Max headed home for the day. For the rest of the summer, I spent my lunches

70 with Max and his friends, having meetings of what we called the “Sandwich Club”: every day I would bring a couple of extra sandwiches, and anybody who wanted to try one could have some. Max never seemed to care what kind of sandwiches I brought to the club, but just

75 giggled and smiled up at me every afternoon. At the end of the summer, I got a letter from Katherine, thanking me for being so kind to she and Max. I wrote back telling her that I could hardly wait until the next meeting of the “Sandwich Club,” and to

80 tell Max that I said hello. For the next two years, the “Sandwich Club” had regular meetings, Monday-Friday at noon, all summer long. After that, Max and his mother moved to be closer to his grandparents, and I went back to having my lunch

85 with the rest of the staff. But for those few years, the “Summer Sandwich Club” brought joy to one camp counselor and many young campers.